shortage, almost everyone is badly off, and not a single farmer with
a scrap of hay to spare, except you, papa.

Yes, I! answered Brandur. I, a poor, blind, decrepit old man! But
what of you? Jon has enough hay, hasn't he? How is that? Doesn't he
have enough?

Yes, we do have enough for ourselves, admitted Gudrun. But we can't
hold onto it. Jon lends it to those in need until it is all gone and
there is none left for us. He thinks of others as well as of
himself.

What nonsense! What sense is there in acting like that? Every man
for himself, said the old man.

That's right. But for us that is not enough. Jon is in a position
where he must think of others; he has to think of all the farmers in
the district--and small thanks he gets for his pains. He is so
upset, almost always on tenterhooks. He didn't sleep a wink last
night--was almost beside himself. He takes it so hard.

So Jon couldn't sleep a wink last night! repeated Brandur. Why be so
upset? Why lie awake nights worrying about this? That doesn't help
matters any. It isn't his fault that they are all on the brink of
ruin.

Quite true, answered Gudrun. He is not to blame for that, and lying
awake nights doesn't help matters, but that is Jon's disposition.
He's tired to death of all the work for the Council and the
everlasting fault-finding. He has had to neglect his own farm since